


Love Grows in the Valley of Death

by BrideofCrixus



Category: Sons of Anarchy, Tig Trager - Fandom, Tig and OC
Genre: F/M, Tig and OC - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-21
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29598969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrideofCrixus/pseuds/BrideofCrixus
Summary: I’m just watching SOA and currently at Season 3 episode 11. This story doesn’t really take off anywhere specific but only encompasses the events up until what I’ve seen. Piney’s cancer metastasizes and Tara arranges for a hospice nurse from St. Thomas to care for him as his body shuts down. Tig discovers something inside him as Piney prepares to leave this world. Love is born from death. Lots of triggers, foul fucking language, drugs, guns, drinking, sticky wet fun, grey consent, I hope you enjoy, xoxo
Relationships: Drugs - Relationship, Love - Relationship, Stalking - Relationship, alcoholism - Relationship, comfort care - Relationship, death - Relationship, grey sexual consent, hospice nursing, language - Relationship, predatory behavior - Relationship, stage four cancer, suicide - Relationship, triggers - Relationship, virgin OC - Relationship
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Stage IV

Chapter One: Stage IV

“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered after she told Piney his recent treatment had zero effect and his cancer had metastasized to his liver. 

Piney looked down at his hands as the rest of the Club present lapse into respective silence. 

“Piney?” Gemma whispered as she laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed lightly. 

Clay walked towards them as Piney raised a hand and patted Gemma’s from where it rested, strong in its silent comfort and groaned as he rose to his feet. “I just need a few minutes,” Piney reiterated with a second pat to the top of Gemma’s hand and slowly shuffled to his room and closed the door quietly behind him. 

Piney could feel the concern wash over him from the eyes on his retreating form, he couldn’t dial Mary fast enough, anxious for the comfort from a place of genuine love despite their lives breaking apart and going their separate ways. 

“What can we expect?” Clay asked Tara after Piney closed himself away.

Everyone in the room heard Tara describe the process of the cancer as it spread and devoured Piney’s healthy tissue and stole his life. 

Happy rubbed at his eyes as Tara explained that with the secondary liver cancer diagnosis, that Piney would likely begin to rapidly lose weight and not have much of an appetite. 

Juice put his hands on his hips and cleared his throat as Tara added that she’d prescribe a good pain control pharmaceutical regime for the imminent belly pain, internal pressure and swelling. 

Gemma and Bobby openly cried as Tara said that many medical interventions were off the table due to the multiple diagnoses and advanced stages of Piney’s cancer. 

Opie squeezed his arm around Lyla’s shoulder, a spark of false hope when Tara explained that there were certain immunotherapy treatments that could improve the health of Piney’s noncancerous tissue. 

Jax crossed the room and grasped Tara’s hand as she said she’d be heading to St. Thomas’s to talk with the head of Hospice and Palliative Care services. 

Clay nodded his thankfulness, not trusting the strength of his voice as Tara said she could have a hospice nurse and rotating staff there as needed within a few days. 

At the back of the room, Tig crossed his arms over his chest as Tara sadly stated that Piney could be gone from this world before the end of the year. He clenched his teeth so hard his jaw popped and danced his fingertips along the edge of the pool table to pluck a bottle of whiskey from the top of the bar.

He quickly took three large gulps, anxious for the alcohol to spread its warmth throughout his chest and belly. 

Tig glanced over at Kozik who was perched on a barstool at the end of the bar and took another drink before pouring out a tall glass for the man he pretty much hated and despised. 

Jax eventually walked Tara to her Cutlass and watched her drive away to St. Thomas’s. 

The mood in the Club was subdued and the music was a low murmur in the background as everyone was lost in their own thoughts.

As Tara met with the Palliative Care Director Olivia Collins, Piney eventually emerged from his room and joined the others. 

The next few days a heavy sadness shrouded the shop and infiltrated every part of SAMCRO, everyone was affected by Piney’s diagnosis and bleak finite future. 

Clay and Tig were hunched over in conversation about the click emitting from a twin cam 103 valve engine when a grey SUV pulled to a stop near the office.

Bobby nudged Juice as the woman in sapphire blue medical scrubs slipped from behind the wheel and zipped up her dark grey sweatshirt with the brisk touch of the breeze. The back of her zippered hoodie boasted a rhinestone pair of wings from the Really Pretty in Pink lingerie boutique.

Tig happened to look up the moment Helena, the hospice nurse from St. Thomas was pulling her auburn hair up into a loose bun. 

He lost his train of thought as Helena squinted against the bright sun overhead, not seeing him in the rear of the shop, allowing him to openly move his eyes over her.

Tig memorized her cheekbones that could cut glass and her full lips that pulled into a warm smile when Gemma came out of the office to meet her.

Clay snapped his fingers in front of Tig’s face as he continued to stare at the spot where Helena had been standing until she followed Gemma into the office. 

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Tig mumbled and walked like a man in a hypnotic trance to the office. 

He pushed open the door and found Gemma passing the newly arrived female a heavily lightened coffee in a foam cup. 

Gemma looked up and concealed her smirk as she watched Tig’s eyes find Helena like a man stumbling through the desert towards a life-saving oasis. 

“Tig, this is Helena Onassis. She’s from St. Thomas.”

Helena stood and switched her coffee to her left hand before extending her right hand towards him. “Hi, nice to meet you,” she said cordially and offered a small smile. 

Tig felt himself tip forward into the swirling depths of her jade green and fiery chestnut brown irises.

“Hey, you’re a nurse,” he said lamely as he wiped his grease-stained hand on the leg of his jeans before grasping her smaller hand in his. His rough skin was a stark contrast to her smooth flesh enclosed in his larger hand.

Helena tilted her head slightly at the timbre in his voice before she resumed sitting, nodding as she sipped the near-scalding French roast. “Yes, from St. Thomas’s Palliative Care unit.”

Gemma settled behind the desk and crossed her arms over her full, round breasts as she watched Tig struggle to find his words. “Thanks for being here,” he finally said, ignoring Gemma’s wide smile and her bright eyes that danced with suppressed amusement as she watched the man who had no boundaries and felt no fear of sticking his cock in any kind of mammal’s wet orifice stumbled over his words. 

Gemma decided to save Tig from drowning and rapped her knuckles against the desk before rising to her full height, enhanced by her boots that fit better since she had lapsed back into cutting her heart medication in half or accidentally forgetting to take it.

“Piney’s out in the shop, I’ll introduce you,” Gemma said.

Tig’s gratitude was clear to Gemma’s eyes as she led Helena through the other door to the office that led to where Piney was sitting on a low stool watching Opie work on repairing a faulty shifter shaft seal.

Tig leaned against the door jamb as he watched Helena follow Gemma and heard their voices all mixing and overlapping as introductions were made. He couldn’t tear himself from the doorway, he had been turned into a pillar of salt as he watched the goddess who had tumbled down from the clouds and landed in his line of sight. Tig watched her shake Piney’s hand again before Gemma walked her back to her dark grey compact SUV.

Helena glanced over at him and caught him staring. Tig felt his mitral valve flutter as it dilated under her sudden attention and she gave him a small smile before turning back to Gemma when she spoke. His heart pounded erratically in its opaque pericardial sac deep within his chest, long after she drove away. 

“Take a breath Tigger,” Gemma said with a chuckle as she squeezed past him in the doorway and answered the ringing phone.


	2. To Follow Without Question

Several days passed before Tig saw Helena again. His anxiety only grew with each passing minute until he was mount fucking Everest. Piney had reluctantly excepted Helena‘s help at Gemma and Tara’s urging. He had decided to spend a couple days with Mary doing some bucket list bullshit before letting cancer take the wheel. Piney allowed Helena to order some medical devices even though he knew he could just go put a gun to his head but he didn’t wanna do that to the club.

Tig felt his bowels turn hot and threaten to loosen and he was certain he forgot how to breathe for a second when he walked into the clubhouse and saw Helena filling a medication tray with a veritable rainbow of round pills and glossy oblong tablets.

Helena looked up as she was pouring a bottle of triangular mustard yellow tablets into her palm and found herself in the sudden crosshairs of his gaze. She felt a constriction in her diaphragm as she suddenly felt like a gazelle under the predatory eyes of a lion on the Serengeti.

Helena couldn’t stop herself from flinching and fumbled the entire bottle of pills onto the carpeted floor. She blinked rapidly and blushed as she looked at the pills that had rained down around her sensible fluorescent pink cross trainers that were endorsed by the most current and famously celebrated NBA player. 

Tig smiled, letting his eyes move over her features and memorize the rapid pulse in the smooth skin of her neck.

“Hey,” he said easily. “Do you want a beer or something?” 

Helena smiled and broke herself out of her paralysis, “no, no thanks. Do you have soda?”

Tig glanced over at one of the new prospects and nodded. The eager prospect rushed over and brought her a cold can of soda.

“Thank you,” she said before she set the aluminum can aside and squatted down to retrieve the spilled blood pressure pills. Helena counted them as she dropped them into her palm. She didn’t notice that Tig had been brought a cold beer by the same prospect and was perched on one of the padded stools openly watching her retrieve the pills.

Tig’s thoughts evolved back to that of early man when communication was from grunts and beating broad chests. He had a sudden desire to go help her but worried what he would do if he got too close. Tig looked away just before she raised her head and rose to her feet. 

Helena put the pills into a baggie and made a few notations before fixing a white label around it and putting it in a small-locked box

Tig took a long drink from his beer, he couldn’t believe the awkwardness he felt about speaking to her. Tig nearly chuckled as his mind dipped just the tip of his toe into the pool of his memories when he thought about what depravity he’d committed and now he couldn’t even talk to someone who was fully clothed.

“Where’s Piney?” he finally asked.

After Helena had finished her notations on the bottle of spilled medication she glanced over before reaching for her soda. “He’s at St. Thomas’s talking to the hospice director about emergency contacts and how many hours of care he needs per week at this point. And of course what his insurance will cover,” she added as she rolled her eyes.

Tig nodded, not having another question in the barrel. Helena sipped off her soda as she went over the list of medical devices she’d ordered and what had arrived so far. She was counting IV bags of saline solution when a question finally came to him.

“Have you done this kind of job long?”

Helena glanced over and settled into the new wheelchair that still had plastic wrap around its wheels. “A couple years now. I worked through a hospice agency all through nursing school,” she added as she took a few more steps from her soda.

“Thanks for helping out Piney,” Tig said.

Helena smiled and chuckled, “he’s not exactly thrilled with the idea of me helping him, but he seems like a nice guy.”

Tig chuckled before he drained his beer and nodded to the prospect for another. “He is a stubborn old bastard.”

They both trailed off into silence. “Do you live nearby?”

Tig nodded as Helena described an area about fifteen minutes north west.

“Do you live there alone?”

Helena tilted her chin as she swirled her soda, “pardon?”

“Do you live alone or with a boyfriend? Husband? Girlfriend?” he asked with a gravelly rasp and winked.

Helena fought to not roll her eyes. “I have a lot of ferns,” she finally said with a chuckle.

“Do you and your plants live in a house or one of those new apartment complexes out there?”

“It’s a two-bedroom house on half an acre. I got an amazing deal on it because there’s so much wrong with it. The hardware store has free classes that show you how to do home repairs and I’m going to try that or if that fails, find a local contractor.”

Tig spoke without really thinking, wanting to promise anything in that moment for even just the opportunity to exchange further words with her. “What kind of work do you need done on the house?”

Helena made an explosive motion off the top of her head.

“Quite a bit, there are some bad patches in the roof, flooring, plumbing, electrical, pretty much everything, that’s why I got such a great buy. The foundation is solid though and there isn’t much drywall to repair. The appliances are fairly new plus the property is beautiful and I’ll have space to have an amazing garden.”

“I could come out and see what some of us around the shop could do.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to go through that bother. I drive by the hardware store almost twice a day.”

“It’s not a bother. When are you getting out of here today?” he bluntly asked.

Helena blinked a couple times and tried to keep her composure as she glanced down at her digital watch that matched the shade of her shoes. “I can pretty much leave anytime, I just have to stop by the pharmacy and pick up a few things and of course get another refill authorized,” she added and tapped the locked case with the contaminated medication.

“I can follow you there and then back to your place to check out what you need done.”

“Are you sure? That seems kind of inconvenient and I feel like I just dumped it in your lap somehow.”

“You didn’t and I’m not doing anything else right now.”

“Thanks, I can pick up the prescriptions on the way over tomorrow so there’s no need for you to wait for me to do that. The refill will probably take about an hour with communicating between the pharmacist and on call hospice physician.”

Tig moved his rough fingertips through the drops of condensation that had rolled down the side of his beer bottle. “There’s a pizza place next to the pharmacy right?” 

Helena nodded, “yeah it’s Nemo’s I think.”

“Do you like their pizza?”

She was digging in her purse for her car keys and wasn’t really following his train of questions. “They’re great, they have that incredible buffet with those cinnamon sugar twists, there is some sort of an illegal drug in them,” she chuckled.

“Why don’t we go have an early dinner and wait for that prescription to be filled?”

Helena licked her dry lips as her mind absorbed his words and broke them down like gastric acid first destroying food molecules before getting waterboarded with bile.

“I haven’t been there in a while,” she lamely stalled.

“You gotta eat,” Tig teased until Helena had to smile and nod. 

The prospect watched Helena gather up her purse and then zip up her sweatshirt. 

The prospect kept his amusement to himself as he watched Tig nearly stumble over himself pushing open the door for Helena, giving her a wide berth even though every part of his body wanted to do the opposite. 

Tig followed Helena to the shopping center with the pharmacy and several other shops just under ten minutes away. They both had to circle the lot a few times to find parking spaces with the dinnertime hour. 

They both walked to the pizza place and got a table before Helena told him what she’d like and then jetted over to the pharmacy.

Tig jammed his fingers on the plastic-coated menu feeling a trail of excitement from the crown of his head to the very tip of his coccyx. He felt a sick bubble of nausea in his gut like a nervous teenager. He wanted to run his hand over his face to see if he forgot how to grow facial hair and was covered in zits. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked himself. “Knock it off,” he scolded himself.

Tig chuckled as he shook his head and rubbed his hands over his eyes after he tossed his sunglasses to the shiny waxed tabletop. “Whore’s are so much easier to deal with,” Tig groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. 

Tig looked up when Helena was suddenly sliding into the booth across from him. “It’ll be about an hour,” she said.

“I ordered just a few minutes ago,” he said deflecting so she wouldn’t see the happiness sparkling in his cerulean blue eyes.

Helena pulled the paper off her straw before dunking it into the glass of ice water “Do you want an appetizer?” Tig asked. “Yes, I’d like the potato skins and their buy one, get one. Which one do you want?”

Tig would’ve agreed to anything. A bowl of croutons would’ve been just fine with him. “How about those mozzarella sticks?”

“Sounds good,” she said.

“Neither of them spoke until the server returned and they placed their appetizer order.

The young server gave them an annoyed look and said that their pizza would be out before the appetizers. The same server’s attitude evaporated as soon as he met Tig’s eyes and saw his life draining in the reflection. 

“I’ll just go put this order in now and then delay the pizza until you’re done,” the server said nervously. “How about some sodas, free of charge of course?”

Tig looked over at Helena. “Would you like a soda?”

Helena struggled not to smile. “Do you have iced tea?”

The server was bobbing before she finished speaking.

Tig ordered a beer and finally smiled when he met Helena‘s eyes. “That kid is probably back there having a heart attack right now you know,” she said as she shook her head.

Tig didn’t initially say anything.

Before either of them could speak, her phone gave two large chimes. Tig watched her pull her phone from an inside pouch of her oversize satchel. He narrowed his eyes and felt himself grow more alert as Helena’s expression tightened and the color drained from her beautiful face as her eyes moved over her phone’s screen.

Tig watched her click her phone into silent mode and shove it back into her purse. Helena pushed an errant lock of hair behind her ear and pretended that her soda was incredibly interesting as she stabbed the ice with her straw.

“You alright?”

“Yes, fine.”

“You look like you just read something bad.” 

“It’s nothing,” Helena said sharper than she intended. 

“It doesn’t look like it was nothing,” Tig pressed as he rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, closing the distance between them.

Helena sat back, her shoulders stiff. “It was nothing,” she spit tersely, her tone not inviting further conversation. Tig held her eyes for a moment, thinking inside that it would be a moment he would return to but for now he would let it lie dormant.

They were spared any sort of nervous chatter about the weather or price of gas when another server showed up with an extra appetizer in addition to the drinks they ordered. “Thank you,” Helena said as she dipped a chip into the extra hot artichoke dip. 

For the next few minutes they both were satisfied with melted cheese, and bountiful sour cream crowned with bacon bits.

“You like the work?” Tig asked when they both came up for air from there endless abyss of carbohydrates and ranch sauce.

Helena nodded before she spoke. “I just recently moved here; I’m still getting to know the area.”

“Where did you work before in Florida?”

“Tampa.”

Tig wiped the red sauce off his fingertips. “That’s a big move, what made you come out here? Family?”

If Tig hadn’t been paying as close of attention and been well-trained to recognizing when someone was lying, he wouldn’t have noticed the subtle facial nuances she had constructed for her past. Tig admired her façade, very seaworthy as long as you didn’t dig or lean in for a closer look. 

“I just wanted something different, the pay here is a lot better,” Helena said airily.

Tig took a few minutes to decide if he was going to press her further for the truth as he tore apart a breadstick and mopped up some marinara sauce that was garlic forward. 

“How do you like Charming so far?”

Tig saw her visibly relax. “It’s great,” Helena said honestly. “The moment I stepped off the airplane and didn’t have the humidity I was ready to call this my new home,” she admitted with a chuckle.

Her words made Tig happy and he kept a smile hidden as he bit into a loaded potato skin that was growing soggy under the weight of the cheese and pile of green onions.

Tig almost choked on a mouthful of sour cream and bacon bits when she asked naïvely. “So you’re a mechanic?”

Tig found himself nodding. “Yeah. Yes, yes, I’m a mechanic,” he said and fought to not shake his head as he cleared his throat to clarify.

“I’ve worked at the shop a long time,” he said. “Flexible hours,” he added vaguely.

Tig waited until their appetizer remnants were cleared and their pizza settled to the center of the table. 

“Did you know anyone when you moved out here?”

Helena shook her head. “No, a whole new start.”

Tig really wanted to know the foundation of her thoughts but didn’t want to scare her away from her work with Piney.

They ate the rest of their dinner as they chatted about generic topics and ended up discussing the price of gas and how much time the downtown roadwork was taking.

Helena picked up the prescription before Tig followed her back to her house.

She kicked off her shoes and adjusted the heater before she unzipped her sweater and settled it over the back of her sofa. “Do you want some coffee?”

Tig would’ve accepted a glass of goat piss over ice if it added to the amount of time he could spend with her.

While the coffee brewed, Tig went and sat on the plush pad of the bay window.

“How do you take it?” she called from the kitchen.

“Cream and sugar.”

Helena brought him a mug that matched hers and for a few moments, the only sound was their metal spoons clinking against the insides of their cups.

“So, should I give you a room by room show and tell of repairs?”

“Lead the way,” Tig said as he rose to his feet.

Helena led him from room to room. He followed without question and would’ve walked across a field of lava without realizing it as he listened to her point out the various repairs that needed to be done. 

Tig murmured to himself as he ran his hand over a windowsill, he mumbled about how long it would take and the cost of supplies. 

He turned to her, but Helena didn’t let him finish speaking before she raised her hands and interrupted him as he said how the shop could take care of it and Chucky could probably even find a way to make it a tax write-off.

“I can’t accept that at all, I want to pay for the work here.”

Tig turned from the windowsill, letting the full weight of his gaze fall around her. “You don’t understand how grateful the club is for you helping Piney. This is the least we can do.”

Helena wrinkled her nose, “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s a lot of work and not to mention the money and time commitment.”

Tig pushed away from the wall and walked towards her slowly, never taking his eyes from hers. Helena swallowed hard and tried to appear casual as he stopped within an arm’s length of her. 

“Please let me, the club, do this for you?” he murmured and reached out to squeeze the taut flesh of her upper arm.

Helena nodded and relaxed when he released her arm. “If you’re sure then thanks, thank you so much. That’s a huge relief, I didn’t really want a bunch of strangers milling around the house, plus the costs are outrageous.”

Helena and Tig both looked towards the front door when a few sharp knocks sounded. 

“Excuse me,” Helena said and went to the door. A quick look through the peephole showed the delivery driver. Tig held his breath and yanked open the top couple drawers of her oak dresser and yanked a silken pair of panties from the satin, lacy pile and shoved them into his pocket before she closed the door with the catalog purchase. 

Tig could feel her uncertainty around him and didn’t want to create any reason that she couldn’t return to the clubhouse. 

He left soon after the delivery driver, relieved that he would be seeing her the following mid-morning.

Helena closed and locked the door after Tig, a fine tremor passed through her hands when she engaged the deadbolt. 

Tig left her house and took a side road to a park that was usually vacated with the time of the hour. He let his bike idle, the warmth vibrating against the inside of his thighs as he tugged her lilac silken panties from his pocket and squeeze his hand into a tight fist around the delicate fabric.

Tig shoved his nose into the panties, smelling the ocean scent fabric softener as he dropped his free hand to the front of his pants and fumble his cock free. His breath turned ragged as he frantically stroked himself to painful hardness, shoving the fabric in his mouth, soaking it with his spit. 

Tig groaned as he felt a hot coil of tension ratchet down in his groin as his balls pulled up tight against his body in anticipation of release. He let his cock fuck his loosely closed fist containing the panties as he closed his eyes and imagined thrusting into Helena and finding out what made her moan and gasp breathlessly. He wanted to make her thighs tremble as she forgot how to breathe. 

Tig grunted as his cock twitched and spit out a couple sweet, sticky spurts of come. His breath shuddered as his heartbeat returned to normal. 

As Tig caught his breath and returned to the club house, already looking at the clock and calculating how long until he would see her again, back in Helena’s living room, she pulled her phone from her purse and took it off mute. 

She sniffed hard as she scrolled through the missed text messages, calls and unheard voicemails. Helena felt hot tears sting her eyes as the anger and obscenity of the messages grew exponentially. 

Helena shook her head and took a deep breath as she plugged in her phone to charge, not having the strength to listen to the voicemails at the moment. 

Helena and Tig’s evenings both passed drastically different.

Tig drank until he passed out under the pool table, waking in the middle of the night to take a piss, not sure which holes of the naked chick next to him he had filled.

Helena took a long, hot bath with a hot coffee spiked with an aged brandy and fell asleep during the eight o’clock news. 

Night passed and the same sun rose above Charming and welcomed them both to a new day.


	3. IV Antibiotics, Sugar Colon Cleanses and Missed Messages

The next day Gemma leaned against the doorframe of the clubhouse as she watched Tig pace. She looked down at her watch and smirked as she carried him a cup of sweetened, scalding coffee and held up a tray of blueberry-lemon scones Tara had made and dropped off earlier.

“She’ll be here at 9,” Gemma murmured as she pressed the mug of near-scalding French roast into his hand.

Tig shook his head and ignored her knowing glance, nodding his thanks for the coffee, and plucking a sweet treat from the stacked sugar triangles as he continued to wait and pace.

Tig straightened up when he saw Helena’s import pull into the lot and come to a stop in one of the crudely marked visitor parking spaces.

“Hi, morning,” Tig tried to say easily as Helena slammed the door and clicked the fob until the car chirped twice.

“Good morning,” Helena said and smiled as she drew closer and saw the large chunks of raw sugar clinging to his upper lip, sweet ornaments perched on the dark strands of his facial hair. “Thanks again for looking at the home repairs,” she continued before swallowing hard and struggled to meet his eyes before she added. 

“Hey, so I feel like I just sort of kicked you out last night, I hope that you didn’t feel that way.”

Tig smiled and shook his head, “I didn’t give it a second thought; beside you might’ve had good reason to slam the door in my face,” he winked.

“I didn’t slam the door in your face,” Helena said with a chuckle as she proceeded to the clubhouse entrance.

Tig quickly left his cup and uneaten scone on a gray bench and flanked Helena as she crossed the asphalt. 

Tig cleared his throat and fished a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket, keeping his hands busy as he tried to find his words. “How many days a week are you going to be seeing Piney?”

“We’re going to talk about that today, I’d think before we really talk that three days might be fine for now,” Helena said as Tig skipped ahead and opened the door for her.

“Thank you,” she said as she walked past him and let her eyes adjust. 

Piney was sitting at the bar talking with Bobby when Helena and Tig walked in.

Piney grumbled a grouchy good morning at Helena who greeted him with a pleasant smile and some comment about the game the evening before.

Helena glanced back at Tig and found his eyes already on her. She blinked and smiled before following Piney to his room where they could discuss his needs in privacy.

Tig frowned at her retreating form before he thought of the shitty piece of cardboard that was a placeholder for actual repair in the unoccupied room that shared a wall with Piney’s room. Tig ordered one of the Prospects to give him a beer before he tried to casually move to the empty room that was now more of an oversized storage closet. 

Tig locked the door of the cluttered room and pulled a few boxes aside in order to tug the cardboard band aid aside just enough to hear Piney and Helena chattering mildly about the weather here versus this time of year on the west coast.

While Piney sat on the edge of his bed and Helena settled opposite him with a notepad and ink pen, on the other side of the wall, Tig listened as Helena went over a verbal checklist with Piney about his symptoms, pain scale and personal details. 

Tig sipped on his beer, wishing he had more alcohol handy as he listened to Piney describe the intimate details of his chest and body pain, his struggle to bring air into his damaged lungs and diminished feelings in his feet. 

Tig shifted the cardboard when Helena asked if Piney would be comfortable with her performing a physical exam. 

Tig looked away as Helena slipped on a pair of dark-green chemotherapy gloves before she helped Piney disrobe and slip on a paisley blue gown that opened in the back.

Tig listened as Helena asked Piney a series of questions as she started with his ears and eyes and continued with his other organ systems. After Helena checked his blood pressure, heart, lungs, and temperature she began a visual inspection of his skin, checking for areas of breakdown especially since Piney said he had diminished sensation in is lower legs.

Tig’s eyes flew back to the miniscule half-moon he had created by shifting the cardboard as Helena’s tone turned serious and clinical. 

“How long have you had this?”

“Had what?” Piney grumbled, annoyed she’d think he would know what his fucking back looked like. 

“You have an open sore here, this is pretty advanced Piney. I’m going to clean this out and then call your case physician. You might need to be admitted on a short-term basis for antibiotics unless they’ll administer them here,” Helena stated matter of fact and ripped open a few packages of clean gauze as she dabbed at the edges of the deep fissure of skin that had opened from lack of blood flow and no one bothering to check his body or even wonder what the cause of the rancid odor was, that sweetness that comes right before gangrenous rot filled the air as Helena packed the wound and helped Piney get dressed. 

Tig put the cardboard back in place and arranged the boxes to where they were before he ended up leaning against one of the pool tables with a bottle of bourbon before Helena emerged from the rear of the clubhouse.

“Everything okay?” Clay asked as his eyes widened at Helena’s stern expression. 

Helena paused as she pulled her phone from her side pocket and shook her head before she spoke. “No, Piney’s got a really bad bed sore, I need to see if the on-call doc can come here, or I’ll drive him to St. Thomas’s.”

“Let me know if you need us to do something,” Clay said as Helena walked outside to get better reception as she called the hospital. 

“Let me know if you need us to do something,” Tig parroted and quickly drowned his oddball behavior in eighty-proof booze as Clay shook his head and walked to Piney’s room. 

Helena got behind the wheel and flipped the air-conditioner to its highest setting, rolling the windows down to let some of the stagnant air out before it began to cool off. 

Tig peeked out the window and watched her full lips move as they formed words with her hands-free call with the hospice lead physician. He watched her nod as she scribbled a few notes on a paper napkin that was shoved between the seats. 

Tig made sure he was already walking outside and lighting up a cigarette as Helena made her way back to the clubhouse.

“Everything okay?” he asked as she drew closer.

Helena paused and blew out a low breath. “I’ve got to go back to the pharmacy and then stop by the hospital for IV supplies, the doctor authorized me running the IV antibiotic therapy here and,” she started to add before her phone rang from her back pocket. She answered it without looking at the caller ID, assuming it was the hospice physician.

Helena met Tig’s eyes, and he watched in live time as the color drained from her beautiful face and she shut down any flicker of emotion in her eyes and forced her expression into carved unreadability. 

“Are you okay?” Tig asked as she nearly dropped her phone trying to end the call before she returned it to her rear pocket. 

“Mmm-hmmm,” Helena mumbled as she continued to the door without another pause to go relay the pharmaceutical treatment plan with Piney. 

Tig rushed inside after counting to ten and blew out a relieved breath to find Piney’s door closed.

He ran his fingers through his glossy hair as he opened the door to the vacant room and interrupted Juice whose lap was full of a blonde head. 

“Out,” he growled without a trace of remorse and waited as it seemed to take eons for Juice to pull up his pants and the girl to wipe the pre-cum from her perfectly shaped collagen lips.

Tig locked the door after the two left to find another perceived private space.

Tig settled on a pile of neatly folded pile of blue shop rags and shifted the cardboard a miniscule sliver at a time until he could see into Piney’s room.

A very small part of Tig felt bad about eavesdropping but the visceral need to see and hear Helena overrode it. 

Tig stilled his breathing as Helena summarized her conversation with the hospice physician.

“Dr. Stephenson is going to phone in an antibiotic I’ll administer in an IV,” Helena told Piney as he grew more nauseated as she tried to be as generic as possible when explaining how the topical gel dressings and foam pads would function in assisting his healing until he died from the stage four cancer. 

Tig swallowed hard as hot gastric juice raced up his throat as Helena continued with the short-term, aggressive treatment of his bed sore and expected side effects from the antibiotics. Tig slipped the cardboard back into place as Helena seemed like she was wrapping up her conversation as she told Piney that she was heading to the hospital after the pharmacy and would be back in a few hours.

Tig bumped into Juice in the hallway. 

The younger man puffed his chest and bumped Tig’s chest in his very best impersonation of a professional hockey player. “That wasn’t fucking cool.”

Tig smiled slowly, his eyes glittering like brilliant sapphires in the muted light of the hallway as he shot his hand out with viperlike speed and pulled Juice towards him, planting a wet kiss in the middle of his forehead, Juice’s startled expression priceless. “You’ve got lots to learn young one,” Tig chuckled as Helena emerged from Piney’s door.

At that moment Helena was the ecliptic and Tig couldn’t breathe.

“Hey,” Tig said lamely and pushed past Juice, “everything okay?” he asked as he gripped Helena’s elbow and guided her to the bar stool with the best padding and no rips in the stitching.

Tig nodded to Filthy Phil to bring a bottle and two glasses. 

Helena shook her head and pushed away the half-filled glass he set in front of her.

“Oh no thanks, I wish but I have to make a few stops. I really want to get Piney’s medication on board.”

Tig nodded, “yeah, you’re going to that same pharmacy?”

Helena nodded as she rummaged in her over-sized bag for her keys. “St. Thomas’s too.”

“Would you like some company? I wouldn’t mind picking up some pizza for later,” he added as he stood from the bar stool and rose to his feet, towering over her as she nervously tucked an errant lock of hair behind her ear.

Tig’s fingertips itched to be pushing her hair away from her face, tracing the soft shell of her ear lobe. 

“Are you sure? It’ll be a lot of waiting around for the vast medical machine to move.”

“Yeah,” Tig murmured as he swallowed his glass of booze in a burning wash that spread warmth throughout his chest and belly as he held his scarred forearm towards her and tipped his imaginary cap.

As Helena exited the clubhouse and turned left in the direction of the pharmacy, her phone’s playlist paired with the stereo and picked up where the last song left off. 

Tig couldn’t help but chuckle as some bedecked in polyester, roller skate wearing band began pouring out of the factory issued speakers. 

“Stop it,” Helena said with a growing blush as she slapped Tig’s hand away from the volume dial, flooding the car with the lead singer’s high-pitched crescendo.

Tig settled back in the seat and adjusted it for more leg room. Helena glanced over and caught him staring, his crystalline blue irises dancing with suppressed amusement.

Helena prayed to any deity that might be listening as she willed her blush to stay at bay under the weight of his gaze.

The drive to the pharmacy wasn’t far and this time they found a better parking spot. It was too early for pizza or most of the other eateries in the shopping center. If one was driving a handicapped vehicle it would’ve been difficult to get a spot though, the long line at the pharmacy was mostly seniors picking up their colonoscopy prep kit, annual flu shot or blood sugar test strips. 

Tig would’ve been happy to stand in line with Helena for days and tucked his hands in his pockets as he drew slightly closer until he could nearly stare down the front of her blouse. One of the buttons had sprung apart earlier and she had failed to notice.

Helena’s phone chimed twice from the depths of her bag. Tig watched her angle the phone away from him and quickly run her eyes over the succinct text. Not many words were needed to imbue fear in the short message. 

Tig’s eyebrows pulled into a deep frown as Helena looked away from him. Tig caught her reflection in the spinning eyeglass display’s mirror as she pressed her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut. He watched her mouth the numbers one to five before she blew out a sharp breath and dropped her phone back into the bowels of her bag.

“Everything okay?” he asked quietly as they advanced a couple spaces in the line. 

“Yeah, nothing too important,” Helena mumbled, wishing she could leap-frog the senior citizens and get out of the pharmacy that was growing too hot. She was certain the oxygen was being sucked out of the room as Tig continued to press. 

“It looked like it was important.”

“Nope, nothing much of substance,” Helena said as she looked up at him, her full lips pulled into a tight smile. 

Tig held her eyes until he bowed his head and held out his hands. “Okay, okay, sorry, not my business,” he offered.

Helena nodded, “it’s fine,” she said and was beyond relieved when another pharmacy technician began calling people from the line. 

She filled out the request with Piney’s info as Tig leaned against the other end of the long counter, watching her consult her notes until she memorized Piney’s date of birth, social security number and insurance information.

Tig watched her flinch and her hand pause in a mid-cursive “P” as her phone chimed from where it was nestled between her wallet and matching coin purse. 

Tig fought to keep himself quiet, his expression one of complete neutrality as Helena continued writing and forced herself to not pause when her phone gave a follow-up reminder chime. 

After the technician ran the insurance paper, the wait wasn’t long and they left with a large paper bag of celluloid colloidal-infused foam pads, a handful of topical creams and a glass vial of antibiotics. 

“Did you still want to get pizza?” Helena asked as Tig pulled the light bag from her arms as they returned to her car. 

Tig looked over and his stomach gurgled in protest at dumping garlic and marinara on his bellyful of booze. 

“Maybe breakfast instead?” he asked and pointed to a pancake shack at the other end of the parking lot. 

“Sure,” Helena said, “but we need to get it as take-out.”

“Whatever you want doll,” Tig purred as he dropped an arm around her shoulders. 

Helena’s shoulders stiffened under Tig’s touch. He gave her shoulder cap a gentle squeeze before he lifted his hand and they walked to the carbohydrate house with its maple syrup waterfall. 

Tig and Helena looked over the takeout menu and the variety of specials and limited run pancake stacks, the choice so much harder when you were hungry.

Tig decided to order a bunch of specials for the clubhouse, and they settled on a plastic bench after they paid and waited for their order. 

Tig was tapping out a message to Gemma that he was bringing back breakfast for everyone and they just needed to stop at the hospital when Helena’s phone chimed, the sound somewhat muted in the bustling restaurant. 

Tig pretended to ignore the reminder chime but couldn’t hold his tongue when her phone chimed again. 

“Who’s texting you?” he asked as Helena grew still.

“No one,” Helena muttered and stared down at her fingernails, pretending to examine a hangnail. 

“Answer me,” Tig growled.

Helena pulled a lungful of the sweetly scented air into her lungs as she turned on the bench to look at him. “Please stop asking me,” she pleaded, hating the belly-dragging groveling evident in her tone. 

Tig narrowed his eyes at her, his gaze piercing, sliding through her blood-brain barrier as he decided how far to press her in the house of pancreatic nightmares. 

He never got the chance to verbalize an answer when their order number was called and Helena was off the bench, receipt in hand like she’d won fucking bingo. 

Tig carried the plastic handled bag of sugar-laden foam containers and individual packets of strawberry jam for the triangles of wheat toast. 

Helena’s tension was near palpable, the melted spoon taste of her anxiety practically filled the air as they returned to her car.

They were both largely silent on the drive to St. Thomas where she parked in the employee lot a stone’s throw from the rear entrance of the building.

Tig wandered around the sprawling storeroom as Helena collected the IV equipment, paper tape and sterile dressings. 

“Ready to go?” Helena called as Tig was fixated by the wall of gynecological equipment, finding himself mystified by some of the individually wrapped instruments, packing and suture. 

Tig shook himself back to reality and joined her at the exit as they returned to her car. The drive from St. Thomas’s back to the clubhouse was quiet aside from the playlist on shuffle, random songs filling the inside of her car. Helena’s tension was a little lessened since turning her phone to silent mode but the unasked questions he was lobbing at her remained unanswered and hung in the musical air.

Tig was fine with the silence as he began to formulate a plan to steal her phone and find out exactly what was scaring her.


	4. Whiskey, Leather, and the Ambient Noise of Enthusiastic Fucking

Helena was relieved and would’ve gladly sacrificed a herd of goats to any known deity when Tig stopped pestering her about her phone.

He quietly helped her carry all the medical supplies into Piney’s room. Tig followed her equipment set-up without question as he kept sneaking side-long glances over at her. 

Tig could see the bright pink of Helena’s plastic phone peeking from the top of her pocket as she bustled around Piney, keeping her voice low as she asked Piney about his symptoms and pain level.

Tig watched Helena inject a pain reliving cocktail into Piney’s IV and smiled as the pain fell away from his face as he lapsed into the pharmaceutical stranglehold.

Tig followed Helena from Piney’s room and cleared his throat. “Are you headed home?”

Helena zipped up her hooded sweatshirt as she nodded. “I’m going to go get my grocery shopping done, start the slow-cooker for dinner all week and stop at the post office. I’ll be back later to check on Piney and get him his evening medication.”

Tig nodded, unsure of what to say further until Helena was called away by Gemma to look at an outrageous bill from St. Thomas’s. 

After Helena left, Tig ended up getting stuck driving the tow truck when one of his Brother’s needed a tow. He was gone so long that he missed Helena returning and checking in on Piney. 

Tig drowned his irritation in a bottle of Jack and was passed out face down, drooling on the green felt of the pool table when Helena let herself in the following morning. 

She covered her lap when Tig groaned as the shaft of light hit his closed eyes, a hungover, patched vampire in leather. Helena went and checked on Piney before returning to her traveling medical kit for some dissolving antacid seltzer tablets and dropped them in a glass of tap water.

Helena soaked a washcloth and wrung it out before she walked over to where Tig had managed to roll onto his side and curl into his best fetal impression. 

“Morning,” she murmured as Tig flopped onto his back, his limbs akimbo, one boot heel in the corner pocket as he stared up at her and blinked rapidly as Helena’s beautiful face came into focus. 

“Hi,” Tig murmured gravelly and closed his eyes as she pressed the folded, damp washcloth against his clammy forehead. 

“Here,” she whispered and set the glass of fizzing water on the wooden edge of the pool table.

Tig squinted as he turned his head, wincing at the pressure in his skull as his eyes fell on the citrus-flavored stomach settler. “Thanks,” he said on a cough as she brushed the cloth down his nose, along the sharp shelves of his cheekbones and down his neck. 

An involuntary gasp slipped from Helena’s lips as she started to lift her hand from the cloth when his strong fingers closed around her slim wrist. “Thanks,” he repeated as he squeezed her wrist.

Helena cleared her throat nervously as Tig allowed her to pull her wrist free. His words conveyed gratitude as his eyes filled with other thoughts as he rose to fuller and fuller consciousness. 

Tig rolled over and drained the glass as he watched Helena return to Piney’s room and close the door behind her. 

Tig stumbled as he awkwardly climbed off the table and made a pit stop at the bathroom before he went and took up his post at his now surveillance station. He had brought booze, cigarettes, and stuff to snack on while he spent most of the time Helena was there observing from the other side of the wall.

Clay and every other Brother had begun to notice that Tig only worked when Helena wasn’t there. They also began to notice that even when Helena wasn’t there, Tig often had important nonspecific errands that needed to be accomplished. 

As Tig leaned against the wall, sunglasses over his closed eyes as even the filtered sunlight through the curtains exacerbated his headache. 

Tig figured out that Piney must’ve come down with a fever during the night judging from Helena’s questions and the slurred quality of Piney’s voice. 

Tig lifted his sunglasses and pressed his face to the wall as he watched Helena tuck a blanket around Piney.

Tig blinked as Piney reached out a hand and gripped the same wrist he had earlier. “Is it going to hurt?” Piney whispered, his voice interrupted as he needed to stop and take a ragged breath.

“Is what?” Helena asked, concern etching her forehead.

“When I die.”

Helena dropped her free hand over his and squeezed gently, being careful of his IV line as she settled on the edge of the bed. “I promise I will do everything to ensure it’s not,” she whispered.

Piney closed his eyes and nodded as a tear escaped down his cheek in a hot line. 

“How long have I got?” Piney asked with his eyes still closed.

Tig watched Helena’s face before she answered, carefully forming her words. “I don’t know, it’s really just day by day,” she admitted. “I wish I had a better answer,” she added.

Piney opened his eyes and smiled weakly, the fever raging inside his body made his face flush like an overripe tomato. As the fever wreaked havoc, it left his body waffling between shivering with a bone deep cold and sweating with inferno-like heat, soaking the sheets with sour sweat.

“Why do you take care of old dying men?” he asked with a chuckle before he started coughing.

Tig pressed his ear to the wall when she lowered her voice after Piney’s coughing fit passed. 

“My parents died alone, no one was with them who truly cared,” Helena whispered and rubbed the smooth pad of her thumb in slow circles over the top of Piney’s liver-spotted hand. 

Piney’s curiosity overrode his discomfort for a few heart beats, and he struggled to sit upright in the narrow hospital bed. “What happened?”

From the other room, Tig mouthed the same question.

Helena shifted on the bed and looked out the sunny window before speaking. “They were skiing in Europe and got hurt in an avalanche at this popular resort. A couple other skiers were killed immediately but my parents were taken to a medical center and died two days later. The airport fucked up my ticket and I got there a few hours after they died. They were in this cold room that looked like it was a part-time storage closet. The staff hadn’t even cleaned up their blood-stained faces,” Helena said and squeezed Piney’s hand as she sniffed hard. “Sorry, I’m getting morbid here.”

Piney was quick to speak. “No, talk to me, take my mind off this,” he pleaded and pointed at his collection of varying sized IV bags. 

Tig nodded in agreement from the other room as Helena was relieved to be able to continue speaking. The first words she spoke of her parents, ripped the thick scab from some dormant pain.

“My parents died alone with no one who cared by their side, as I was cleaning my mom’s fingernails, I decided at that moment that I would spend the rest of my life making sure people didn’t have to die alone.”

“What about your home life? Do you go home to a husband and kids?”

Helena shook her head, “no, I’ve pretty much been in school for the last few years and not done much else.”

“Now that you’re here and done with school is that something you’re looking for?”

Tig strained his ears as he squeezed his eyes shut, he was certain his heart didn’t beat in the space until she answered. 

Helena cleared her throat. “I’m not opposed, just a little…….cautious,” she added after a pause.

Piney nodded, “you do need to be careful out there.”

Helena saw Piney stifle a yawn. “I’m going to get out of here for a while, I’ll be back after dinner. I’m a phone call away if you need anything,” she said as she stood and closed the curtains. 

Piney was already nodding off and could barely articulate a goodbye. 

Tig counted to ten after Helena left the room before he slipped out of the spare room, turned storage closet and most recently his surveillance station. Tig’s gaze swept around the room and found Helena and Gemma deep in conversation at the bar, their heads close together as they talked lowly to each other. 

Tig watched the two women for a while, Gemma nodded as she followed Helena’s finger as it moved over a stack of pages and paused in random places. 

Filthy Phil was quick to bring Tig a beer before he had to waste the air to ask.

Tig took a few swigs off the bottle as he sidled closer to one woman he admired, deeply loved and respected and the other that made him forget his name or how to breathe. 

Gemma looked over and slowly smiled when Tig came into her line of sight before she patted the top of Helena’s hand and gestured towards Tig. 

“Tig can drive you to the pharmacy.”

“Absolutely,” Tig murmured without a shred to what he was agreeing to. 

Gemma’s smile grew wider as she continued. “Her car got blocked in, it’d be easier if you drove her to the pharmacy and back.”

“Yes, definitely,” Tig said, more in debt with gratitude towards Gemma in that very moment. 

“Great, thanks,” Helena said brightly as gathered her purse and coat before following Tig outside. 

She stopped short when Tig held out a matte black helmet towards her. “Oh, we’re driving on that?” Helena asked nervously. 

Tig smiled at her stilted tone, “there’s no one safer for you to be with.”

Helena blew out a breath and shrugged her shoulders as she reached for the helmet.

Tig started the engine and let it idle as Helena adjusted her purse until she was wearing it cross-body. 

Helena carefully slipped behind him on the worn leather seat, her tension keeping her back ramrod straight, energy swirling under her skin as she lightly settled her hands on the tops of his shoulders. 

Tig smiled as he exited the parking lot faster than he needed to, making her reflexively drop her hands to grip his sides.

Tig took the scenic route to the pharmacy and even drove a few miles under the speed limit. He found his irritation growing when the small line at the counter moved fast when another register was opened and he somehow managed to get a green light at nearly every intersection. 

On the way back to the clubhouse, Helena found that some of her anxiety had fallen away enough for her to enjoy the air on her face and the unobscured view compared to being inside her SUV with the side airbags. 

Tig felt every red blood cell quiver with anticipation when he felt Helena relax against him slightly, hearing her deep inhale over the rushing air as she pulled his warm, intoxicatingly masculine scent into her lungs.

Tig’s irritation quickly returned when he no sooner had cut the engine when Gemma hurried over, saying Piney had gotten sick in the bed and that she had nearly pulled his IV line out as she had begun cleaning him up. 

“Thank you again,” Helena murmured to Tig as she squeezed his shoulder before she jogged inside and disappeared into Piney’s room with Gemma. 

Tig eventually made his way inside the clubhouse, Phil again was Johnny on the spot with another beer. 

Down the hall, while sweat formed in bloated beads on Helena’s forehead as she concentrated on starting the IV line with Piney’s persnickety veins, she was oblivious that outside Piney’s closed door, the clubhouse was beginning to fill with warm bodies, alcohol began flowing and the sounds of enthusiastic wet fucking were barely audible over the pulsing music. 

Helena closed Piney’s door behind as she emerged into the bustling room, the air heavily scented with sex, whiskey, and leather. 

She paused when her eyes landed on Tig from where he leaned against the bar as a bottle-blonde with huge tits brushed her manicured hand down the front of his chest. 

Helena and Tig’s eyes met before she pivoted sharply and made a beeline to the exit. Helena didn’t see Tig shove the blonde’s hand away and quickly followed in her footsteps.

Helena took a deep breath when she stepped outside, dusk giving everything a dull glow. 

Helena shook her head as she plunged her hand in her purse and searched the vast depths of her purse for her keys. She chuckled to herself at her reaction, part of her wanted to go back inside. The only reason Helena continued looking for her keys was because she wasn’t sure what would fall from her lips. 

Tig’s voice found her the moment she closed her hand around her keys. “Where ya going?”

Helena looked back at him as she unlocked her door, “home, I’m exhausted.”

“Stay a while,” Tig said easily and leaned against the cool hood of her car. “You’re off the weekend right?” he added.

Helena nodded, “I haven’t had an entire weekend off in a while, I’m quite looking forward to a lot of nothing.”

“Then stay a while, you can sleep in late tomorrow,” Tig said and casually moved towards her, blocking her from opening the car door. 

Helena shook her head as she kept her hand on the plastic door handle, centimeters away from his leather-clad side. 

“What will you be going home to instead of this?” Tig asked and nodded his head in the direction of the clubhouse.

Helena dropped her head and chuckled. “I’m going to order a pizza and have some recorded movies waiting for me along with my pajamas on the waiting sofa.” 

Tig let a hand drop and close over hers holding the car keys. “I like the sound of that more, why don’t you invite me over?” he added as he squeezed her hand gently with each word.

Helena pointed to a couple making out by the swing set, “and leave all this?”

Tig nodded and smoothed his hand from her wrist, up her smooth forearm until he could cradle her elbow. The point of her elbow joint poked into the center of his palm as he continued in a low murmur, “I don’t want that.”

Helena felt herself flush with giddy nervousness. “You’re only saying that until you realize that I actually just mean junk food, pizza and tv watching.”

Tig took his attention off her for a few moments to look around, anyone outside the clubhouse was occupied as he dropped the weight of his gaze around her again. 

“Can I come over?” he asked boldly and tightened his grip on her elbow when she initially stiffened.

“You can pick the pizza toppings,” he added as he released her.

Helena looked down at her watch, “is someone going to come pick you up later or do you want me to drive you back?”

“I’ll ride in with you on Monday morning,” Tig rasped as he watched her quickly look away. His eyes moved down her slim neck and watched her strong carotid pulse pick up the pace at his words. 

Helena shook her head and covered a laugh, “you should really get back to the party. I‘m definitely not inviting you over to spend the night, let alone the whole weekend.”

Tig shifted to the side as she resumed tugging on the door handle. He opened his mouth to speak, unsure of if he was going to plead, beg or bargain when the high-pitched voice of the slut of the month reached them.

“Tiggy, Tiggy, there you are,” the ultra-blonde said as she tiptoed over to him on impossibly high heels, a tiny skirt and hungry, sucking cunt. 

Helena arched an eyebrow and smirked at Tig as she slid behind the wheel and maneuvered out of the parking lot. She looked up in the rearview mirror as the living blow-up doll molded herself to Tig’s side.

Tig watched her go, he clenched his teeth so hard his jaw popped when the blonde toyed with the zipper of his pants and whispered wetly into his ear, smelling like bubblegum lip gloss and orange liqueur. “Let me help you forget her baby,” she cooed.

Tig assertively closed his scarred fingers around her wrist and pushed her hand away. “I don’t want to forget her,” he growled as he marched back inside the clubhouse and plucked a nice bottle of scotch from behind the bar before he hopped on his bike and tore off in the direction of her house. 

The drive to her house seemed to take longer than it should’ve, Tig hit every red light and got stuck behind a slow-moving semi at one point. 

He blew out a breath of relief when he pulled to a stop in her driveway and knocked on the front door. Tig waited before he knocked again, seeing a few lights on and the murmur of the voices from the HD television screen. 

He walked around the side of the house and found her sliding glass door open with only the screen as a flimsy barrier. Tig held his breath and pushed open the door which squeaked angrily on its track. 

Tig held his breath and strained his ears as he realized he could hear the water from the shower which prompted him to exhale and walk in his normal stride to the brightly lit kitchen. 

He listened to the water continue running as he looked through the cupboards until he located a few squat glasses before pulling a few uneven ice cubes from the freezer. 

Tig drank directly from the bottle, taking a few burning swallows that spread warmth through his chest and belly, anxious for the alcohol to settle his nerves. 

Tig leaned against the chipped, tiled counter that needed replacing and glanced down at the floor when he realized he was standing in a puddle of scattered rose petals. He frowned and squatted down and picked up a few of the velvet blossoms, some were torn and smashed while others looked like they had fallen away without any effort. Tig’s frown grew deeper when he pulled open the cupboard under the sink and found the rest of the bouquet and sturdy white floral delivery box shoved into the stretchy plastic trash bag. 

Tig dug through the fresh, floral grave for the small rectangular card from the florist. His eyes ran over the dark blue calligraphy on the creamy-white local florist card. 

“I love it when you wear those blue scrubs, see you soon.” 

Tig reread the short sentence and tried to remember when Helena was wearing blue last. His recollection was sidetracked when Helena cranked the water off in the shower.

Tig shoved the destroyed bouquet’s card in his pocket and poured two nearly full glasses of the potent booze until Helena walked into the kitchen, her wet hair wrapped up in a purple towel turban.

Helena covered her mouth with shock when she found Tig standing in her kitchen, immediately thankful she had put on her oversized football jersey with the GOAT’s number and matching slippers with the team’s logo. 

“The front door was locked,” she finally managed.

Tig nodded and pushed her glass towards her, “the screen door wasn’t.”

Helena nodded. “Yes that also needs to be repaired,” she added as she settled on the other side of the counter and sipped the strong drink. 

Tig watched her over the rim of his glass, drawing her attention as he let the glass land loudly on the counter, the ice swirled and made the potent alcohol splash up the sides. “Did you order the pizza yet?”


End file.
